Armed Only with a Camera: The Life and Death of Brent Renaud (2025)

[bunniefuu]

Crossing the river here

from Guatemala into Mexico,

and the migrants

that we're traveling with,

including this young Honduran

right in front of us,

says he doesn't have the money.

It only costs a few cents

to cross the river on the raft.

But he says he needs to save

the money for the journey.

So we're walking across,

and it's not easy.

Gracias.

Imagine being 16 years old,

leaving home on your own,

and trying to make it all the way

from Honduras to the United States.

Anthony,

there's all these dangers.

This is not the normal

kind of thing

for a kid like you to be doing.

Anthony, be careful, okay?

And we hope to see you again.

Okay.

Okay.

Were you here when the b*mb hit?

Thank you.

I'm very sorry about this.

What do you think

about this w*r?

Where will you go now?

It's hard to see this.

We've just got some

breaking news to bring you.

And Brent Renaud,

an American photojournalist,

has been k*lled

while working in Ukraine.

US photographer Juan Arredondo

was also injured in the attack.

Brent Renaud

was tragically k*lled.

We applaud the work

that he was doing.

Um, the bravery

with which he did it.

It is a devastating loss

to journalism today.

You know,

he and his brother, Craig,

have done so many documentaries.

Have you been able

to talk to Craig

or any of his loved ones

back here?

Yeah, I talked to Craig,

and he's dealing with some

pretty heavy stuff right now

in terms of dealing

with getting Brent back.

So...

So, uh...

he just kept repeating it,

you know.

"We've been shot. We've

been shot. We've been shot."

And, you know, um...

And I said, "Where's Brent?"

And he said,

"He's been shot too.

"Um, I've been pulled away

into a separate vehicle.

Um, he's still there."

And I said, "Where was he shot?"

And, um, I said,

"Did he have his vest on?"

And he said, "Yes."

And then I said, "Was he shot

in the vest or the face?"

Um, and Juan paused.

He didn't answer me.

Um, and I knew right then

Brent was gone.

Check, check.

My name is Brent Renaud.

This is my brother, Craig.

I would like to talk a little

about where we come from.

As kids growing up in Arkansas,

my brother and I

were alone a lot.

My dad was a traveling salesman.

He sold belt buckles,

chewing tobacco,

and NASCAR memorabilia

to truck stop owners

all around the South.

And my mom was either in school

trying to get her degree

or working some job.

I was into fishing, motorbikes,

and sh**ting g*ns.

Typical Southern boy stuff.

Only I wasn't typical at all.

I was autistic,

and, unfortunately,

none of the adults around me

had ever even heard of that.

Maybe not surprisingly,

besides with my brother,

I struggled to make friends.

In my mind,

I have been a photographer

since I was ten years old,

when my dad gave me

his 1974 Minolta camera.

I loved the black

and silver design.

I thought it looked like

the kind of camera

photographers used

in the movies.

It's just so fast,

somebody's gone.

Right here, you can see

where the b*llet went in.

Um, I just... I know this

is what Brent would be doing.

You know, Brent just always

felt it was important not to hide

from the reality of what

violence and w*r does to people.

So I know he would have

wanted me to film this.

My brother Brent

was two years older than me.

When we were little,

I can remember following Brent

around everywhere.

I always looked up to him.

When Brent told me

that he wanted to be

a documentary filmmaker,

I had to be there alongside him.

For the next 20 years,

I followed my older brother

to the most dangerous places

in the world.

Four Arkansas

soldiers are k*lled in Iraq.

We're joined

by the Renaud brothers.

That's Craig and Brent Renaud,

Arkansas filmmakers

who've been embedded

with the Arkansas National Guard

through their entire tour

in Iraq.

- Whoa!

- That one hit right there!

They're locking in on us.

Brent filmed

on the front line of conflicts

all around the world.

But what he cared about the most

were the people

caught in the middle.

You know.

Look.

So tell me, what are we

seeing here? What is all this?

And do you go to school?

No.

So we're on our way

to visit a family

who's in hiding

in this neighborhood.

They're in hiding

because the mother accused

the 18th Street g*ng

of kidnapping,

and some of the g*ng members

were put in jail.

And the g*ng said that they were

gonna k*ll the entire family.

So we're gonna go to their house

and talk to them.

Yup.

Hola.

Were you trying

to go to the United States?

Is that what you were

trying to do?

You know, there's

a lot of kids like you

in the United States.

Many of them are telling

stories like yours.

They say they're afraid

to come back here

because it's dangerous,

that they could be k*lled

by the gangs.

Some people in the United States

don't believe them.

Are you hiding

from the g*ng now?

Are you worried

about your lives?

What will happen

if they find you?

He was obviously shot

while he was driving,

and then he crashed

into this SUV here.

Brent was very

intense, and quiet.

And he was not

the type of person

to talk about his experiences,

like the time

he was arrested in Somalia

and beaten by the guards.

About the only time

you would see Brent at ease

is when he was

with his dog, Chai.

Oh, this could be

the last time

Chai and I have been

getting in the truck

and taking road trips

since she was very little.

I miss you, darling

More and more every day

The diagnosis of autism

tells you very little

about a person.

I can be calm as a Zen monk

in a firefight

or a disaster zone.

But for years,

a c*ck party in Brooklyn

was absolutely terrifying.

Chai is my best friend

and my therapy companion.

Come, Chai, come! Come on!

Come on, puppy!

Good puppy, good puppy,

good puppy!

It's hard to imagine

a more cruel event

than the earthquake

that hit Haiti on January 12th.

And if you had asked me

before the earthquake

if things could have gotten

much worse in Haiti,

I would have said,

"I can't see how."

Most of the people

right now living on the street

because people

are trying to survive.

Okay?

Did you get anything?

Filmmaker and journalist

Brent Renaud lost his life

documenting the horrors

of the b*ttlefield in Ukraine.

Tributes immediately poured in

for the award-winning filmmaker.

He was traveling at the time with

a photojournalist, Juan Arredondo,

who barely escaped

with his own life.

So glad you're alive, man.

- I'm so glad.

- I'm so sorry.

It's okay.

I can't get this out of my head.

- I know.

- I can't get this...

I can't sleep.

I've still got his blood

on my fingers

because I tried

to stop the bleeding.

I know.

There's nothing you could have done.

I-I-I mean, I can still feel

those b*ll*ts

and the sounds and...

I thought at one point,

it was like, this is it.

I'm-I'm-I'm gone.

And I-I kept, you know,

touching Brent, touching Brent.

And when I woke up, I...

I saw his...

He was bleeding on his neck.

So I grabbed it,

and I tried to stop it.

And I could see him

mumbling some things.

But I kept asking the driver

- just to go and go and go.

- Right.

And, uh...

Yeah, I just...

That's... That's the stuff that

I can't get out of my head.

I know.

I'm so sorry.

Don't say that. It's okay.

I don't want you to say that.

I've accepted it.

- I miss my friend.

- I miss him so much.

I miss him so much.

Malik, what do you...

Describe what you see.

I mean, this is... I don't know.

I can't describe it.

What does he remember

about what happened?

He saw it, he said.

He said warm, very hot.

It's the shrapnel that

went and injured all her.

You know?

It's okay to film?

My name is Brent.

- Brent?

- Yeah.

- Can I ask you something?

- Yeah.

Please do.

I will do that, man.

You're very honest

and very faithful and very...

The way you hold that camera,

the way you hold that camera,

it is not just

you're just holding it.

You're doing it from your heart.

I am, man. I am.

It really means a lot, dawg,

you know what I mean?

We can change this world, dawg.

You and I, we can change

this world if we wanted to.

- Yeah.

- Believe that.

We're now finally

crossing the border

from Ukraine back into Poland.

And my brother's in the van

in front of us,

so finally getting him

out of the w*r

and taking him back home.



If I could ask

for your cooperation

in deplaning today, we are

taking Brent Renaud home

on his last flight

to his home in Arkansas.

He recently lost his life

in Ukraine.

We have the honor

of taking him home.

And he's being escorted

by his brother.

We honor him today.

Thank you.

Through many dangers

Toils and snares

I have

Already

Come

'Twas grace

That brought me

Safe so far

And it's grace

Grace will lead me

Home

My name is Jon Alpert,

and my deepest respect

to Brent's family.

When Brent was a young man,

he came to me

and he came to my wife, Keiko.

We run a little small

TV center in New York.

And Brent wanted to learn

how to use his camera

to do all the things that he's

being honored here today for.

We went to Iraq together.

We went to Afghanistan.

And Brent went

time and time again,

putting his life on the line

to teach us

what w*r is really like.

This is one of the craters

created by a US b*mb.

He's showing

how the women were struggling

to get away

as they were injured.

Sir, can you tell me

what happened to this child?

Can you tell him

we hope he feels better

and gets out of here soon?

Barehanded...

armed only with his camera,

in the most dangerous

places in the world,

he risked his life

over and over for you,

for us, for America.

How you all doing?

My name is Derek Brown.

I didn't write anything.

Um, I spoke with Craig,

and I told him I was just

gonna talk from the heart.

I come from the West Side

of Chicago.

Um, I come from a dark area.

I met Craig first.

Then he introduced me

to his brother, Brent.

And I can remember

like it was yesterday,

the first time I seen them.

Small guy.

It was like he was like a dove

that came in the room.

But his presence

was of an elephant.

Over the last decade, more people

have been k*lled in the city of Chicago

by g*n violence than US soldiers

fighting in Iraq or Afghanistan.

Most of these shootings

involve teenagers.

How many bodies? You know?

It's only one body.

And he was stuffed

in the garbage can.

Jamarion come from a block

where five people got shot.

- On this one block?

- On this one block.

Within this last

couple of months.

Each one of these kids

I'm picking up,

they would grow up

hating each other

if I didn't go in these

different parts of the community

and pull them together.

- One, two, three.

- Hut!

- One, two, three.

- Hut!

So when I point at you,

I need you to say your name

loud and clear.

My name is Demarus Johnson!

My name is David Johnson!

My name is Darion Carter.

My name is Derek Carter.

The reason

I want y'all to speak up,

because I want you to be heard

because y'all are somebody.

Y'all count for somebody.

One day,

y'all might speak for the world.

The place that I came from,

I always felt, and everybody

in my community felt,

that nobody cared.

But meeting guys like these,

great men of God...

gave us light.

And thanks again, Brent.

I met Brent and Craig

some 19 years ago

up in Clarksville, Arkansas,

as the unit I was assigned to

was preparing

for their deployment

for a yearlong tour

in Baghdad, Iraq.

Brent was incredibly selfless.

His work and his life

was profound

and impacted millions.

They weren't just

embedded reporters.

They were one of us.

We're about to head north

into Iraq.

Be polite, be professional,

and be prepared to k*ll.

Hey, be advised

we got a vehicle coming up

with their lights flashing.

That's Iraqi police.

Stay on them, Jones.

Stand back at a distance.

Slow down.

Dim the lights.

g*dd*mn!

Contact right!

Contact right!

RPG!

Keep going! Keep going!

Reload! Reload!

Jones, watch behind you! Move!

Watch my back!

I'm getting out!

We got another IED!

We need to get out of here!

Ready.

Aim.

Fire!

Ready. Aim.

Fire!

This is perhaps one of

the most difficult things

I've ever had to do,

but it must be done.

We must remember Lyle

for who he was

and what he died for.

He died protecting us.

Thank you, Lyle.

And I mean it when I say this.

Brent did more good for humanity

in his 50 years on this earth

than most of us could hope

to achieve in 50 lifetimes.

May peace be with you

and peace be with us all.